


Prophets and Prophecy

by FireEye



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: Locke and Edgar have a late night talk about the end of the world.





	Prophets and Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azurefishnets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurefishnets/gifts).



The eminent young king of Figaro lay on his bed, leafing through loose pages of schematics.  Amending this.  Marking down that.  For all that his dinner had long since grown cold, he was steadily – if slowly – whittling down the bottle of wine that had accompanied it.

Wind rustled the curtains at his balcony.  As a commotion in the hall grew nearer, he flicked his gaze to the door.

Sighing, Edgar climbed to his feet, leaving his work as it was.  He padded to the door over the plush carpet, reaching it just as a heavy knock sounded from the other side.

As soon as he had opened it, five men filed in.  Three spread out behind the captain of the guard, casing the room.  The chamberlain stepped forward behind them and bowed deeply to the King.

“My liege,” the chamberlain explained, wringing his hands.  “We have reason to believe there is an intruder in the castle.”

“You there!”

“ _Ah_.”  Swords were drawn.  By the alarmed expression on the chamberlain’s face, Edgar knew exactly _who_ he’d find when he turned around.

“ _Hold!_ ” the king snapped, before the guards’ enthusiasm could get ahead of them.

Sure enough, a sinewy young man sat on his bed, his feet kicked out together on the floor.  Locke may have grown an inch or two, and his attire may have changed, but there was no mistaking his tousled ashen-brown hair and overly-clever, smiling eyes.

Furthermore, one of the guards was now facing down the other two.  The captain was looking to him for an explanation.

“You’re new in from South Figaro, aren’t you, Captain Lynton?” Edgar asked, conversationally.  “Sorry to disappoint you, but that would be my younger brother.”

“Respectfully, Highness,” the captain of the guard remarked, at a loss, “I thought Prince Sabin was His Highness’s identical twin.  I...” he eyed Locke, skeptical “...fail to see the resemblance.”

“This... would be the _other_ brother, Captain,” the chamberlain stated.

“It’s something of an open family secret,” Edgar remarked.

The captain frowned deeply.  The king merely winked.

“I see we have... little cause for concern,” the chamberlain cut in, ushering the guards from the room.  Edgar heard him explain, haltingly, as they made their way down the hall.

Once the door was closed again behind them, Edgar turned to the slender youth who was now seated in his chair, picking over his cold, untouched dinner on the table.

“One of these days, Locke, your sneaking around is going to get you a crossbow bolt in the backside.”

Locke took a bite of one of the dishes, made a face, and pushed that particular plate away from him.  Edgar pulled one of the slightly less ornamented chairs from the table and sat down.

“You know...” he stated, “It _is_ within my power to call the kitchens for warm food if you’re hungry.”

Wiping his fingers on the tablecloth, Locke slipped his hand into his vest and pulled out a slightly crinkled letter and offered it silently.

“...Sabin?”

Locke nodded.  He blinked when Edgar slipped it flat onto the table next to the tray.  “You’re not going to read it?”

“Later,” Edgar assured him.  “Believe it or not, he’s not the only brother I care about.”

Locke’s eyebrows knit together, and his expression grew pensive.

“...I’m not really your brother, am I?”

“Tell that to Father.”

 _What_ , exactly, had brought that on?  Locke fidgeted, and Edgar took the time to assess him more sharply.  He seemed skinnier than last they parted, but healthy.  There was a restless tension in the way he moved, and when sitting still he swayed.  Maybe Edgar should have seen it from the start, but something had the boy spooked.

And Locke didn’t spook easily.

Standing, Edgar moved to retrieve the wine and wineglass from his bedstand.  When he turned, he found that Locke had followed him on silent feet.  Locke sat himself on the king’s bed, and Edgar sat next to him.  Filling his glass, he offered Locke the bottle, who only waved it off.

Pulling one of the papers from the pile, Locke unrolled it over his knee and wondered at the design.

“What are these for?” he asked quietly.

“It’s an engine I’m working on.” Locke wouldn’t understand the detail, but Edgar knew he could easily grasp the abstract.  “Powerful enough to move the entire castle.”

Locke made an appreciative noise at that.  “Will it work?”

“Hope so,” Edgar scoffed.  He pulled the schematic free, stared at it for a moment, and dropped it back on top of the rest.

Edgar took a sip of his wine.  Locke had clasped his hands lightly, and rubbed his thumbs together.

“What brought you home?”

Locke slipped to his feet.  Lacing his fingers behind his head, he took to pacing the near wall.

“I, uh... thought it might be...”

Edgar gave him time to pull his thoughts together.  Abruptly, he turned to lean against the wall, sliding down it into a crouch.

“I... was in Jidoor recently.”

Edgar blinked.  When Locke didn’t elaborate, he ventured hesitantly, “...Phoenix?”

Locke glanced at him, and shook his head.

“No,” he stated.  Then shrugged, uncertain.  “Maybe.  I don’t know.  I mean, Phoenix is gone, but I was there anyway, so....”

Sighing, Edgar set his glass beside the wine bottle.  He moved to join Locke on the floor, sitting cross-legged beside him.

“No.  I was passing through Jidoor, and I... met an old man.  An old blind man.”  Locke chewed his lip; a flush colored his cheeks.  “He... said the world was ending.”

Edgar stared at him, then started to laugh.  Unkind, perhaps, but he couldn’t help it.  Locke huffed.

“ _Listen_.  He said the old world is ending, and the new world is beginning.  That the balance is in upheaval, and the engine of destiny has been set in motion.  That... that magic is flooding the world, only everyone else is too blind to see it.”

“ _Magic_?”  Edgar echoed.  “Magic died a thousand years ago, Locke.”  He flipped his fingers at nothing.  “Hell, we don’t even know if it was real or just a faerie tale explanation for some higher form of lost technology that dark age scholars couldn’t comprehend.”

Shaking his head, Locke pushed his fingers through his hair.  “It... was... Look, I’m not believing things because I’m _gullible_ , okay?  There was something... about this guy.  Something like-....”

Not unkindly, Edgar rubbed a hand up his back.

“Hey.  How long’s it been since you had a proper night sleep?” he asked.  “Maybe we should catch up in the morning.  The guest wing is open, and I can promise you Captain Lynton has already frightened all the monsters out from under the bed.”

Rising to his feet, Edgar offered Locke a hand.  Locke raised his head, and eyed it skeptically before reaching for it.

“What if it’s true?”

“What?” Edgar asked.  “That the world is ending?”

Hauling Locke to his feet, Edgar clapped a hand to his shoulder.  “Then we’ll figure it out when it comes.  I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> -I was thinking maybe Ramuh but then I don't know. :P  
> -I spent my childhood headcanoning a whole lot of stuff for this game, _goodness_....  
> -Anyway! Please accept this thing. :)


End file.
